Seven Deadly Sins
by drcjsnider
Summary: Sin kept them apart and brought them together. DM/HG epilogue compliant fict.


Title: Seven Deadly Sins  
Chapter Title: 1/1  
Characters: Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger  
Genres: Romance, Humour  
Rating: R  
Warnings: Language, Sexual Situations. Draco's comments in the sin "Greed" were inspired by the movie Wall Street.  
Summary: Sin kept them apart and brought them together. (DM/HG epilogue compliant fic)

**Envy**

Draco Malfoy knew that he'd be torn in two different directions as he saw his son off to Hogwarts for the first time. Part of him was filled with pride. Pride that his boy was going off to make a name for himself at school; pride that he'd raised a fine child who was not afflicted with the same arrogance and conceit that accompanied Draco to Hogwarts all those years ago; pride that his son had the skills and the temperament to accomplish anything to which he set his mind.

Another part of him, however, was miserable. Scorpius, in many ways, had become his father's principal companion. Draco did not travel abroad, did not attend Quidditch matches, and did not even enter his box at the opera without Scorpius beside him. While the elder Malfoy claimed that he was simply exposing the boy to a variety of experiences that would enrich his heir's worldview, in reality he simply hated to be apart from the child. From the moment the boy had been placed into Draco's arms, he had been overwhelmed with feelings of completeness and love. He had immediately transformed his entire life so that it centered on raising his son. After eleven years of not spending as much as a fortnight away from Scorpius, Draco now dreaded the separation.

One emotion Draco had not expected to suffer from today, however, was envy. Yet, when he looked down at the end of the train platform and saw the Weasleys and the Potters that is exactly what he felt. All four adults looked not only pleased with their offspring, but also content and still enamored with their spouses. The same could not be said about himself and Astoria. This was the first time he or Scorpius had seen her in months. He'd barely managed to convince her to temporarily leave Milan in order to see their son off to school. Moreover, she'd announced soon after she'd arrived that she needed to be back to Diagon Alley by 11:30 a.m. to catch a return Portkey to Europe.

His eyes drifted back down the platform and he watched Weasley casually throw his arm around his wife's shoulders and hug her tightly against his side. Draco imagined that Granger and the annoying, red-headed, Auror would fuck like undomesticated forest creatures upon returning home. Well, he amended to himself, perhaps Weasley would have to sit through a treatise on the rights of undead first, but still there would be sex at the end of the day. Jealousy welled up in the blond's gut as he was forced to admit to himself that he wanted what the Weasel had – not Hermione Granger specifically – but the same type of devotion and love.

He glanced at his wife and watched as she straightened their son's collar and reminded him to pay attention in his classes since it was never too early to begin striving to become Head Boy. He spontaneously decided to accompany Astoria to Europe this evening and attempt to salvage his marriage. There was no point in coveting something that might be within his reach.

**Pride**

Hermione Granger-Weasley was not in a good mood. She'd been excited to be elected as a member of the Hogwart's school board, but upon arriving for the first meeting she'd discovered that the board officers were seated at the table by seniority. This meant that as one of the two newest members she sat at the very end of table right beside the other new official, Draco Malfoy.

It was so frustrating that she had been elected because of her knowledge about instructional issues and her determination to insure that all students received the very best magical educations, while he had been elected because he donated the school's new Quidditch stadium. She couldn't stop glaring at him.

"Granger, you look like you've stepped in something disgusting," Draco told her, during the board's first break. "Didn't your mother ever warn you that your face might get stuck like that? Course, it still is an improvement from your bucktoothed adolescence."

"Bugger off, Malfoy. I can't believe you even bothered to show up tonight. I thought serving on the school board was just a publicity stunt to help restore your family name."

"I am not going to even acknowledge your insulting premise with a reply."

"Just remember that pride goes before the fall."

"Merlin, you are the same annoying swot that you were back in school. Moreover, you have now lived two-thirds of your life in the wizarding world, enough with the dopey Muggle sayings already. Pride goes before the fall, my arse."

Hermione continued to glare at him.

Draco ignored her, linked his hands behind his head, and leaned back so that only the back legs of his chair still rested on the ground.

Without stopping to think about it, Hermione shifted in her seat and let her right foot knock up into the front leg of Draco's seat. He quickly lost his balance and went toppling over backwards in his chair. She smirked at the dazed look on his face. "Pretty accurate for a Muggle saying, hum?"

**Greed**

Hermione Granger stormed into Draco Malfoy's office, her eyes blazing and her hair crackling with energy. She waved a sheet of parchment under his nose. "Malfoy, please tell me that this is inaccurate, that you aren't SERIOUSLY considering dropping your annual donation to the war orphans fund by 10!"

Sitting back in his chair with an annoyed look on his face, Draco replied snarkily, "It's good to see you too, Granger."

Hermione huffed and pushed the hair at of her eyes. "I have no time for common pleasantries, Malfoy. I need to know whether or not you are cutting back on your donations."

"And just why would that be any of your business?" he asked her, raising an eyebrow slightly.

"I am the chairperson of this year's fund raising drive. My goal is to collect 25 percent more for the orphans than Ron did last year, which will be impossible if you don't at least MATCH what you gave previously."

"I'm sorry to ruin your plans to outshine the Weasel, Granger, but financial difficulties are forcing me to restrain my charitable giving this year."

"What financial difficulties?"

"Getting a little personal aren't you?"

"Come on, Malfoy. Give me one good reason and I'll leave you alone."

"Fine, I'll give you several good reasons. First, the company has made less of a profit this year than last. Second, the clothing division of Malfoy, Inc. is in the middle of a lawsuit over the trademark infringment for _Muggle-Wear Attire_. And third, I want to redecorate my office. British Imperialism as a motif is so out-of-date."

"Those reasons are awful! You are richer than Croesus. Even if your company isn't doing as well as last year, there is still no reason for you to cut back on your donations. Stop being so greedy."

"You say it like it's a bad thing."

"What?"

"You said, 'Stop being greedy,' as if being greedy is a bad thing."

Hermione looked confused. "It is."

Draco shook his head sadly. "Granger, I thought you were supposed to be bright."

"Malfoy, what are you on about?"

"Greed is good, Granger. Greed is what stops people from lazing around all day wasting their lives. Greed is what motivates potion-masters to develop new cures for curses. It is what motivates Aurors to track down the bad guys. It is what motivated you to be a know-it-all swot at Hogwarts. Without greed my great-great-grandfather would still be in France selling pantaloons to Muggles and I wouldn't have any money at all to donate to charities."

"You're an idiot."

"Insults are the last refuge of those who know they've lost an argument."

"Well, if greed is so good, let your desire for universal affection and admiration motivate you to double last year's donation."

"You're a piece of work, Granger."

"Just think of it, Malfoy, think of all the admiration, esteem, and respect you'll receive once word of your generosity hits the papers."

"I suppose redecorating the office COULD wait until next year," he admitted thoughtfully.

Hermione gave him a brilliant smile. "I knew I could count on your to do the right thing!"

"Bollocks," he grumbled. "You knew you could manipulate my enlightened self-interest to cave into your wishes."

Hermione smirked at him. "Same difference, Malfoy. Same difference."

**Sloth**

"Granger, get up."

"Go away."

Draco sighed. He knew before coming over this wasn't going to be easy, but he had never expected THIS. Hermione's house was a wreck. It looked like every dish was dirty, there were piles of clothes all around the room, and she was curled up under the covers in bed.

It had been four months since Weasley had been killed in an Auror accident. Hermione had put on a good show of being strong at the funeral and while her children were home, but as soon they returned to Hogwarts, she disappeared from society. She took a leave of absence from her job, stopped attending school board meetings, and refused to answer Floo calls. When she had not even bothered to inform Draco that she would be missing their monthly lunch, where he allowed her to try and convince him to donate a large sum of money to whatever injustice she was currently interested in, he had decided to take action.

"It smells like a sty in here," he sniffed. He hoped that a few well placed insults might drag her out of her misery or at least make her mad enough that she forgot about her loss briefly. "Of course, perhaps that is the typical smell of hovels. I don't usually frequent such establishments."

"How'd you get in here?"

"Scorpius told me how to let down the wards. I have no idea how he came to possess such information, but if I were you I'd make sure your daughter knows how to cast an accurate contraceptive charm. Malfoys can not be blackmailed into marriage by the threat of illegitimacy."

"Go away. Draco. I'm not in the mood."

"But you are in the mood to wallow in self-pity?"

That caused her to pull her head out from the covers and glare at him. "It isn't self-pity to miss one's spouse of twenty-five years. I've spent more than half my life in love with Ron; I don't know how to exist without him."

"Bollocks. You know how, you don't want to exist without him."

"I don't have much of an existence without him! He balanced my life. Without him it is all work and obligations and loneliness," her eyes began to tear up.

"Hermione," Draco began gently, sitting down on her bed. "Do you remember what you told me when Astoria left?"

"This is not the same thing!"

"Do you remember?"

She nodded. "I told you that change was not easy, but that you had to trust yourself to handle whatever came along and that it was okay to get support or a shoulder to cry on from your friends and family."

"And when I told you to bugger off and didn't leave a manor for two weeks?"

"I told you that sloth was an unattractive trait and that someone with a receding hairline really shouldn't be pushing the unattractive aspects of their personality."

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"That doesn't apply to me," she sniffed. "My hair isn't receding."

"Do you really want to get into a 'whose hair is worse debate with me?'" he asked in what most people interpreted as a condescending tone, but Hermione knew was only his way of teasing her.

"But Draco, it is so hard!" she cried, tears running down her face.

Gathering her into a tight hug, he nodded in understanding. "I know it is. But it would be a lot easier if you would let your friends and your family help. I'm not telling you to forget Ron. Hell, I'm not evening telling you to stop grieving for him. But you can't shut down your entire life because you miss him."

"I know. Only there just doesn't seem to be much to get up for anymore."

"What if we meet for coffee every morning?" he asked. "We can go to the little shop across from the Ministry of Magic."

"Coffee every morning with you? I thought you wanted to help?" she looked up with a slight smile on her lips, although her eyes were still watering.

"Let's just do it for a week. I'll let you ramble on about whatever your heart desires. We'll just see if it makes things easier."

"I'm never going to stop loving him."

"You don't have to, but you can't just give in to despair either."

She sniffed loudly and muttered something about bossy, Pureblooded gits, but gave in to him in the end. "One week, Malfoy. Then if I want to continue wallowing in my pain you can't interfere."

He squeezed her hand. "It's going to be alright."

"I wish I could believe you."

"Yes, well, why would you start listening to me now, after you've spent most of your life trying to convince me I'm wrong about the world?"

She giggled softly. "Thank you," she whispered.

He nodded and continued holding her quietly until she fell asleep.

**Wrath**

"I can't believe you've agreed to go on a date with that fuckwit, Theordore Nott."

"I don't see what the problem is," Hermione stated in a tone she hoped was calming. "You are the one who has been encouraging me to go out for the last several months."

"Yes, but that is when I thought you had some taste. Nott is a knob, who is more concerned with the size of his bank account and his social standing, than doing any work of substance."

"He has a seat on the Wizengamot."

"Bought and paid for with his parent's money."

"You seem pretty offended for a man who let his father buy his way onto the Slytherin Quidditch team."

"I was 12 years old, Granger. Nott is still hanging on his father's coattails after forty-two years. It's pathetic."

Hermione sighed. "I admit he is not the ideal man of my dreams, but it isn't like there has been a line of blokes knocking down the door to date me."

"That is no reason to settle for a tosser," Draco grumbled, sitting down across from her.

"Merlin, I'm just going out to dinner with him. It isn't like we are getting married."

"I don't care. You could do much better."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You could! You are smart, well-connected, kind, considerate, and beautiful. Any man would be lucky to be with you."

"Oh please! Name one man besides Nott who would be interested in dating me."

Draco was silent.

"See, you can't do it. You can't name anyone."

"I would."

"What?"

"I would date you."

Hermione's mouth dropped open and she blinked her eyes rapidly.

"Owl Nott and cancel your date. Give me a chance, Hermione. I know I've been a prat in the past, but I've been interested in you for ages. I would do whatever is necessary to make you happy."

"Draco?" she whispered, still looking stunned.

He reached across the table and grabbed her hand. "Give me a chance," he implored her.

Hermione bit her lip, smiled slightly, and slowly nodded her head.

**Gluttony**

It was their first time hosting a party as a couple and both Draco and Hermione were concerned that it wouldn't go well. Despite all their planning and preparation the dynamics of the event were going to be awkward. None of their friends moved in the same social circles, had common interests, or had ever willingly spent more than a few minutes in one another's company. "What if they won't mingle?" Hermione had fretted more than once since sending out the invitations.

To compensate for their nervousness, the pair had doubled their catering order and hired a bartender. "Should fighting break out, we'll just grab a bottle of champagne, a couple of slices of cheesecake, and hide in the closet under the stairs until everyone is hauled away to Azkaban," Draco drawled lazily, as their guests began to arrive.

The first hour of the event was excruciating. Draco stood in a corner talking to Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott, not even bothering to greet anyone else. Hermione, meanwhile, flitted between the former Gryffindors, who had claimed the most comfortable seats in the flat and refused to budge, and some of Draco's female friends, who kept insisting on loudly giving her hair care and sex tips. Meanwhile, Gregory Goyle pulled up a dining room chair to the buffet table and growled at anyone who approached the crab cakes. Seamus Finnegan, on the other hand, kept summoning whiskey bottles from the bar and refilling the glasses of everyone standing near him.

A loud argument broke out when Marcus Flint suggested that all of Gryffindor's Quidditch success had come because Oliver Wood had prostituted himself to Madam Hooch. "Draco, do something!" Hermione demanded franticly.

"Why? It's not like it wasn't common knowledge around Hogwarts," he replied with a smirk and shrug. Zabini and Nott laughed at his quip.

Hermione marched over to him and poked his chest with her finger. "This party is a disaster and it is completely your friends' fault! If they weren't so busy putting on aristocratic airs," she glared at Pansy Parkinson, "or giving in to gluttony," she motioned toward Goyle, "people might actually be enjoying themselves!"

Grabbing her finger, Draco glowered at her. "Who exactly are they supposed to be conversing with Granger? Your friends are hardly engaging companions even when they aren't sloshed."

"My friends aren't sloshed!" Hermione hissed right as Lavender Brown vomited all over the sitting room carpet.

Draco took a deep breath and stared into Hermione's eyes, "I promise to pay all of mother's house elves if you never make me host a party for our former House mates again."

Hermione nodded slowly, as she saw Adrian Pucey take violent offense to George Weasley's graphic suggestion of where he could shove his broomstick. "Deal," she whispered.

**Lust**

"Do you have your list?" she asked him, smiling brightly.

"Of course I do. I've put a lot of thought into it."

"Let me see it then," she grinned, snatching it up.

He watched her begin to frown as she read. "You realize several of these women are dead, right?"

"Sure, but they were lookers in their time."

"Rowena Ravenclaw? Lady Carmilla Sanguina? Marilyn Monroe? Is this a joke?"

"Granger, just because you don't approve of my list of women does not give you freedom to mock me."

"Draco, this is supposed to be your Celebrity Freebie Fling List – the list of celebrities who, if you ever had the chance, you could shag without me getting mad at you."

"I understand that, Granger. I don't see why you are getting your knickers in a twist over my list of celebrities."

"They are dead, you idiot! When are you ever going to be able to shag Rowena Ravenclaw? Are you going to dig her up and have sex with her corpse? Or are you just hoping that she comes back as a zombie so you can do her? I know, maybe YOU have access to a time-turner no one knows about and you can go back in time to shag her."

"Let me see your list," Draco demanded.

Hermione handed it over.

"Viktor Krum? Oliver Wood? Harry Potter? These aren't celebrities!"

"Hello?! Krum and Wood are both professional Quidditch players and Harry is on a Famous Wizard Trading Card, so they count as celebrities."

"I want my list back," Draco growled. "I'm going to put the Weasel's little sister on there. She plays Quidditch professionally. I think I'll add Pansy, too."

"Pansy's not famous!"

"Not yet, but she will be."

"You're nutters," Hermione huffed. "I'm not giving you the list back. You'll just abuse it."

Draco made a leap for the paper, knocking into Hermione. She stumbled against the couch, sat down abruptly, and then scooted along the cushions to avoid the blond's grasp.

Standing up straight, Draco raised an eyebrow at his girlfriend. "Don't act like a child, Hermione."

When she stuck her tongue out at him, he lunged. He landed with his body pressed up against her, his right hand clasped around the wrist that held his list. "Give over," he whispered in her ear.

Instead of responding verbally, she pressed her lips against his neck and rubbed her hips against his leg.

"Witch," he moaned. "You don't play fair." His free hand snaked around her waist to caress her bum. "Of course, neither to do I," he smirked.

Hermione hummed softly, rubbing herself against him more aggressively. "I'll tear up my list, if you tear up yours," she murmured.

He nibbled on her bottom lip before replying, "First thing you've said all night that I support."

"How about you stay around a little longer and we see if there are other things we can reach an agreement on," she responded, before slipping her tongue into his mouth.

"Merlin, yes," he whispered, after they broke apart. He then crumpled up her list and tossed it on the floor. He'd burn it later just to be sure he'd never have to willingly share her with another wizard.


End file.
